And you’re kind of a dick.

“Sure. I was wondering if I could get a copy.” I nod toward Chess, as I wrap my arm around her. “It’s our first date. Be nice to have a memento of it.”

I can feel Chess’s stare. She’s wondering what the hell I’m doing. It makes my smile a little more genuine, because I love the sound of her chiding voice in my head.

Dude’s date, who hasn’t said a word until now, perks up. “Oh, that’s so sweet. Dougie, isn’t that sweet?”

He gives his girl an annoyed look, as if to say he’s in charge, but then puffs up his chest a bit. “Yeah, sure, Manny.”

“Cool. Can we have a look?” Another fake smile. “My girl really wants to see them.”

Dougie is not entirely stupid and hesitates.

I hold out my hand and stare him down, but keep my pleasant expression. If he says no now, he comes off as a complete dick in front of his girl and his supposed idol.

Finally, he hands over his phone. Jesus, he took a lot. My anger rises. At my side, Chess’s fingers dig into my arm. But she doesn’t let her emotions show. “Your eyes are closed in that one,” she points out lightly.

“I like slow dancing with my eyes closed,” I tell her with the same levity, as I highlight the photo and a half a dozen more. They’re grainy or overdeveloped with the flash, but every image shows what I’m feeling for Chess with perfect clarity. And while I’m not the least bit ashamed of that, the idea of it being all over the internet—and I have no fucking doubt that’s where these are headed—makes me want to crush the phone in my hand.

A sense of violation coats my insides like hot tar.

Dougie, the little fucker, also recorded the last bit. I don’t play it because I’m not sure I can keep my temper if I do. I send the entire lot to an email address set up for Charlie to check, with the code I use to let Charlie know it’s from me as the subject line. He’ll keep them safe for me and then block Dougie’s email address later.

Dougie sees that I’ve sent the pictures on, and starts to fidget in his seat. Because I’m still holding his phone. It’s clear that he’s worried I’m going to delete them.

Chess tenses, obviously thinking the same. I could do it. Easily. It would take a tap of a button and there is no way Dougie could stop me. I have at least seven inches and about thirty pounds of muscle on him. But I’ve played the game long enough how that would go down.

I give him a thoughtful look. “Would you like a selfie with me?”

He brightens, letting out a breath. “That would be awesome.”

My cheeks fucking hurt with all this fake ass grinning. “I see you’re wearing my team cap. Could sign that for you too.”

Dougie loves that. “Shit, yeah.”

“Cool.” I straighten to my full height. “All I ask in return is that you delete these.”

His happy face falls.

I nod toward Chess. “See, this is our first date. I’d like my girl to keep her privacy.”

He swallows hard. “I wasn’t going to share them.”

Sure you weren’t.

“Still,” I say. “It’s hard to impress a girl when she’s worried about photos.”

Again, I hold his gaze. Come on Dougie, don’t make me toss this phone into the Pacific. I know one thing: I’ll try the nice route, but he isn’t getting this piece of Chess and me.

Dougie rubs his chin like cock of the walk. I lean in a bit, noting how he stiffens. “Besides,” I say in a low, confiding voice that’s just between him and me. “I’m pretty sure the guys would appreciate that selfie more than me dancing with a girl.”

That does it. Weakly he nods. He still wants his pics, that’s obvious. But he won’t push it. I delete them, relief rushing through me like air, then pose with Dougie for pics. My scrawl on his cap is quick and messy.

“Well, then,” I say, trying not to toss his hat back in his face. Be nice. Be nice. “Have a nice night, guys. Dinner’s on me.”

His girlfriend beams. “You really are so sweet. We love you, Manny.”

I wink at her. And then I’m grabbing Chess’s hand and taking us away from the couple as fast as I can. Heading toward the hostess stand, I explain that I’m leaving and give her enough money to cover our bill and Dougie’s.

The whole time, Chess stays silent, her hand in mine. She doesn’t say a word as I take her down to the beach, my stride brisk, my heart still pounding with unleashed rage and regret. Stopping only to take our shoes off, we walk away from the lights of the restaurant, the sound of laughter and music slowly giving way to the crashing of surf.

The moon hangs overhead, bright enough to illuminate the beach and shimmer off the ocean. I slow to a stop. Moonlight gleams white on the inky strands of Chess’s hair.

Her eyes are big and worried as she stares up at me. “You didn’t have to pay for that rat’s dinner.”

“He didn’t have to give me those pictures. But he did.”

“He was a creep to take them.” She scowls at the ocean. “I wouldn’t have done that to someone.”

I sigh, letting the anger leach out of me. “He’s a fan. It’s what a lot of them do.”

Her gaze returns to me, and a small smile curves her lips. “You handled it well. I would have just smashed his phone and told him off.”

A humorless laugh huffs out of me. “Yeah, well, I was tempted. But that would have caused a shitstorm. It’s easier to manipulate the situation with kindness.”

“You’re amazing,” she says. But her expression is troubled.

I touch her cheek, tucking back a stray lock that whips in the wind. “I’m sorry about that. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I can’t guarantee that. Fuck, it probably will.”

Chess curls a finger into the belt hoop of my jeans. It’s a small touch, but I feel it like an anchor. Again, she watches the waves. “They’ve already taken pictures of me. Remember?”

I wince, my skin drawing tight. “I know. I’m sorry about that too.”

“I know you are.” Chess glances back at me. “It really upset you tonight, though.”

My insides roll and the anger returns. “We were dancing, for fucks sake. It was…nice. I hate that some asshole ruined it.”